Actor George Lindsey, who charmed audiences as Goober Pyle on The Andy Griffith Show, died on Sunday in Nashville of a brief and undisclosed illness. He was 83.
Lindsay first played the country bumpkin mechanic on The Andy Griffith Show and went on to portray Goober on Mayberry R.F.D. and Hee Haw. In 1985 he summed up his best-known character's appeal, saying, "Goober is every man; everyone finds something to like about ol' Goober."
Andy Griffith said in a statement that he and Lindsey remained close over the years. "George Lindsey was my friend. I had great respect for his talent and his human spirit," Griffith said. "In recent years, we spoke often by telephone. Our last conversation was a few days ago...I am happy to say that as we found ourselves in our eighties, we were not afraid to say, 'I love you.' That was the last thing George and I had to say to each other: 'I love you.'" Lindsey is survived by a son, a daughter, and two grandsons.
More:
J.J. Abrams Talks Spielberg, Child Actors, and Monster-Making
Hollywood Funnyman Howard Morris Dies
Couch Potatoes Anonymous: TV’s Boldest Series Finales
[Us]

How do you end a great TV show? It’s a question as old as TV itself. You take a show that’s been on several years and has garnered a strong fan base, and the series finale’s caliber could determine how the entire series is remembered. Every fan has his or her own interpretation of how the end should come and as a writer; you have to try to at least appease everyone. With perennial fan favorite Chuck wrapping up this week, rather than give you guys the tried and tiresome “best finales ever,” I’d rather showcase the finales that for better or for worse have divided fans of the show for as long as they’ve been gone. Some of them we might have even changed our minds on over the years, and some will continue to confound for eternity.
Seinfeld, “The Finale;” May 14, 1998 In just nine years time – from 1989 to 1998 – Seinfeld went from a show that was, at best, a blip on the radar, to a cultural phenomenon. So, when Jerry Seinfeld announced that the ninth season would be the last, the actual shooting of the series’ last episode was overhyped to the Nth degree. Anyone who got the chance to attend the taping had to sign a confidentiality agreement. The media were shut out as well, and speculation as to how the “show about nothing” would end rose to a fever pitch. Would Jerry and Elaine finally realize they’re made for each other? Would George die? Would Kramer traverse the globe, “Kung-Fu” style? None of the above happened, and instead, what fans actually got was a clip show. Now, I love Seinfeld as much as the next guy, but the first time I saw the finale, I was slightly cheesed. I don’t think I need to summarize the events of how the fab four were put on trial, and a cavalcade of characters from the show’s history came back as witnesses for the prosecutors. Looking back, sadly there was really no other way to end the series that could have done it justice. Jerry and Elaine marrying? On a show that featured not one iota of sentimentality? Not going to happen. The last hour might not be Seinfeld’s best, but plenty of shows have found worse ways to end. Read on true believers. St. Elsewhere, “The Last One;” May 28, 1988 The characters and events that happened at St. Eligius Hospital during St. Elsewhere’s run helped forge the path of the hospital drama in years to come. In the early- to mid-eighties, plenty of some of today’s most respected actors and actresses strolled through the teaching hospital in Boston, most notably Ed Begley, Jr., Helen Hunt, Howie Mandel, and Denzel Washington. Yet, the series-ender is still one of the most argued about in TV history. Besides paying homage to other famous finales like The Mary Tyler Moore Show, M*A*S*H, and The Andy Griffith Show, in the final scene, the camera pulls back revealing snow falling on the hospital, and the scene changes to the son of Ed Flanders’ Dr. Donald Westphall: Tommy who has Autism. Tommy is playing with a snow globe when his dad, who now is wearing a construction uniform strolls into the room pondering what goes on inside Tommy’s head. Inside Tommy’s snow globe is a replica of St. Elgius. With that reveal, it has been debated ever since if the entire series took place inside the mind of a boy with Autism – I’d cue the Lost “whah” sound, but it’s about 18 years too soon…or is it?
The Sopranos, “Made in America;” June 10, 2007 If you want to talk about a divisive series finale, there aren’t many that get bolder and brasher than the finale of David Chase’s epic mob story. I am sure that millions of people inundated their cable providers with calls wondering if their cable went out, because there is no way a series that reinvigorated cable TV could end that abruptly. With Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” pumping and the members of the family, sans Meadow (who evidently cannot parallel park), sitting down to eat, the tension was rising to a crescendo and then – nothing. While the finale was a waste of everyone’s time, albeit a well-written waste of everyone’s time, the last few seasons were a waste of my time. With a mob war being teased for nearly two-and-a-half seasons that finally culminated in just one episode – the penultimate “Blue Comet” – we were privy to the nothing-out-of-the-ordinary-happened-in-the-life-of-Tony-Soprano kind of ending, which would have been acceptable if we got a better resolution to the DiMeo/Lupertazzi crime war. If you want the real end to The Sopranos, look no further than the trilogy of episodes that ended the fifth season: “The Test Dream,” “Long Term Parking,” and “All Due Respect.” These episodes recapped all of Tony’s fears that his cousin, Tony B., would spark a mob war; the emotional murder of Adrianna; and Tony finishing a job that he should have finished a long time ago. Even the final image of “All Due Respect” would have served as better lasting image than ten seconds of a black screen: Tony emerging from the woods unscathed. The X-Files, “The Truth, Parts 1 &amp; 2;” May 19, 2002 Speaking of shows that overstayed their welcome, The X-Files was originally conceived as five- to six-season series that would culminate with a movie. But we all know that television is a big business and at the time, not many shows were bigger business than the conspiracy laden X-Files. And just like our first entry on this list, The X-Files ended with a trial. Fox Mulder was out on trial for the murder of Knowle Roher, but his guilt was impossible because Rohrer was transformed into an alien Super Soldier. Despite Scully’s autopsy, which concluded that the body was not Roher’s, Mulder is sentenced to death for the murder of a military officer. The story would conclude with Mulder’s escape and he and Scully fleeing to New Mexico to meet with the Cigarette Smoking Man, who details the end of society as we know it and the colonization of Earth, which will begin on Dec. 22, 2012 (mark your calendars people). The finale was more of a pilot for a series of movies than it was a fitting end for a show that many people considered revolutionary. It is credited with igniting the serial drama movement. Anyone who has dared to sit through the second X-Files film, I Want to Believe, knows whole-heartedly creator Chris Carter lost the controls of this train a long time ago, leaving fans scratching their heads, wondering if there will ever be a true conclusion to one of the best TV shows of all time. That '70s Show, “Love of My Life”/That 70’s Finale;” May 18th 2006 With stars Topher Grace and Ashton Kutcher either gone completely or barely there, That '70s Show was forced to forge ahead without them in the eighth and final season, although Kutcher’s Kelso would make a few appearances. The finale season was pretty bad compared to the first seven; it was clear that Josh Meyers’ Randy Pearson was not a suitable replacement for series' star, Topher Grace. And the finale proved that deficiency, exemplified by the fact that Randy doesn’t even appear in Part Two of the episode. Like any show in which a main character leaves, the finale seams anticlimactic. The amount of the two-part episode that centered upon Eric’s return from Africa just proved how integral the character was to the lives of the other characters. It’s just too bad Eric’s return took place in the last five minutes of the show. As for the rest of the humdrum finale, Red and Kitty are contemplating moving to Florida, Jackie contemplates actually being with Fez, and – dare I say it – proverbial pothead Hyde contemplates giving up the grass. For a series so well-received to end so dully was just a crime and proof positive that money-be-damned, networks need to know when to end their series.
Roseanne, “Into That Good Night;” May 20, 1997 This finale was not just a head-scratcher of an episode capping off a head-scratcher of a season, but a horrible way to end nine seasons of a mostly great sitcom. Roseanne was a show that was hallowed as being a fairly realistic look at the lower middle-class way of life. While every other late eighties sitcom family was one of privilege, like the Huxtables (The Cosby Show), or just too damn perfect looking, like the Seavers (Growing Pains), the Conners were a family just like yours. They were struggling to pay bills, parent their children, lose excess weight, and deal with kids all jockeying for their favor while finding their own places in the world. The series was a stark contrast to the sitcoms of its time and often played more like a serial comedic drama than a sitcom. The ninth season was in conflict with everything Roseanne was about, and had plenty of outrageous and unrealistic moments due to the Conners winning the lottery. However, Dan’s affair and the heartwarming episode, “The Miracle,” in which Darlene’s baby is born, would serve as shots of realism that the show was known for. But by the time the series finale aired, we would all learn the truth: the entire series was a memoir that Roseanne Conner was writing about her life and she changed the parts that she didn’t like. The Conners had never won the lottery; Jackie was gay as opposed to her mother, Bev; Mark &amp; Darlene and David &amp; Becky were really the Conner-Healy couples. It was definitely a strange way to end a series, saying many of the things we knew to be true were either sort of true or not true at all. For that reason, “Into That Good Night” remains one of the oddest sitcom finales ever. Lost, “The End, Parts 1 &amp; 2;” May 23, 2010 Way back in the first season of the new millennium’s first truly can’t-miss TV series, many fans had surmised that the Island was actually purgatory for our crash survivors. I bet those fans felt vindicated and cheated at the same time while watching “The End.” They may have felt vindicated because while they were wrong about the Island being purgatory, the “flash-sideways” world was a close second to their original hypothesis. They could have felt cheated because nearly every unanswered question was still left unanswered in favor of a more character-driven two and half-hour conclusion. For a series so hell-bent on piling on the questions its habit of deftly, if not sparingly, dishing out answers angered many fans – "The End" is no exception. So, here’s my theory on what happened: Creators J.J. Abrams, Carlton Cuse, and Damon Lindeloff had a grandiose vision for a series. Their TV series would incorporate all kinds of pop culture, literal, and biblical references. Then it dawned on them that concluding a series this saturated with mystery and mythology would not be able to be done in a way that could truly explain everything, and decided to focus more on the characters themselves than silly numbers, button pushing, Others, or Waaaaalt. Six Feet Under, “Everyone’s Waiting;” August 21, 2005 I know that this column is highlighting some of the most divisive series finales ever, but how could we not include a series finale that is hands-down, universally accepted as perfect. For five years, Six Feet Under was one of HBO’s if not all of TV’s boldest series, tackling the reality of death, amongst many other taboo subjects. With eldest son, Nate, dying at the end of the very excellent episode, “Ecotone,” the series would have to carry on without him for a few more episodes, although he would occasionally pop up in the minds of his family members. Even though it was the perfect way to end the series, “Everyone’s Waiting” was still a hard sell, every character dies at the end, and not in a Lost kind of way, they all actually bite the big one in a heartbreaking montage of life and death set to Sia’s equally moving song, “Breath Me.” Speaking of emotional, according to TVLine.com, Chuck’s creator, Josh Schwartz, predicts that there will be “very few dry eyes…I think every Chuck fan is going to be very satisfied,” when the series ends its five-season run on NBC tonight. Tonight may prove Schwartz right, and I hope everyone enjoys the finale. As always you can follow me on twitter @CouchForceOne.

The TV icon passed away from natural causes last Thursday (17Nov11) at his home in Santa Monica, California.
Elinson began his small screen career in the 1950s, penning jokes for U.S. variety programmes The Jimmy Durante Show and The Johnny Carson Show and he went on to write for popular series The Andy Griffith Show and Hogan's Heroes. He also honed his skills as a producer working on Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. and That Girl.
He earned an Emmy Award nomination in the Comedy Series category in 1961 and won a Writers Guild of America prize in 1962 for his work on the Manhunt episode of The Andy Griffith Show.

The Golden Girls star passed away on 2 November (11) in Burbank, California, reports Variety.com.
Melton began his career in the 1940s, starring in movies including film noir classic Body and Soul and the musical On the Town.
He moved to TV roles in 1954, and racked up credits in shows such as Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Rhoda, Major Dad, Dragnet, The Andy Griffith Show and The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour.
His TV career picked up in the 1990s as he appeared on sitcoms Make Room for Daddy, Blossom, Green Acres and Golden Girls.
Melton also tried his hand at directing, stepping behind the camera for Bad Girls Don't Cry in 1965 as well as ...And Call Me in the Morning in 1999.

With his sprawling Spielbergian throwback, Super 8, finally ready to hit theaters, writer-director J.J. Abrams took time out of his busy schedule yesterday to chat with a handful of journalists via conference call. Here are some of highlights:
On Super 8’s ultra-secretive development and production:
The idea was really just to try and maintain a certain level of discovery for the audience, so that we didn't give them the literal plot synopsis in every piece of material we released, whether it was a trailer or commercials or clips. One of the tricky things about this movie was that it's a combination of genres. There are kids that share the spotlight and in fact own it for quite a bit of the film. So there are definitely a lot of challenges to selling the movie. But one of the things that drives me crazy is seeing a trailer and feeling like I have no real need to see the whole movie now because they just showed me everything. So the goal was really just to try and to keep things more fun for the audience when they actually come and see the movie.
On the film’s viral marketing campaign and the philosophy behind it:
A lot of it’s about just asking ourselves what we would really like to see, what would be fun to do if we were just movie fans out there. It’s something that no one is being compelled to do, no one has to do, no one is being forced to do, but if you like it, great, but if you don’t, you don’t even have to know about it.
On the extent of producer Steven Spielberg's involvement:
Steven was involved in the early stages of laying out the plot. I worked with him on the story, on editing the script, casting, during production he watched dailies and came to the set a few times. He was filming his own movie but he still came by a few times, which was great. In post he spent some hours with me in the edit room and was incredibly helpful with that because it was a real challenge to sort of structure the thing. In post, we had a bunch of second-act things we needed to figure out and he was really helpful with that. He came to the recording session for the score one day and a couple days during the mixing stage. It was one of those things where I was amazed at how available he made himself to me and to this movie. One of the fun things about working with him was always knowing that I could email him or call him and ask him his advice on a scene we were going to shoot or something that we'd cut together and get a response from him. There were times in the editing room where we would be sitting there and he would say, "You know what I would do? I would …" and he would suggest whatever. And I'd laugh inside because I just can't tell you how many times I was working at any stage and think, "What the hell would Steven Spielberg do?" So to have him actually just sitting there saying, "You know what I would do?" it was kind of unbelievable.
On the writing process, the challenge of creating authentic characters, and the difficulty of reconciling the story’s different genre elements:
It definitely was a crazy challenge. I think the key to any writing is to write what you believe, and sometime it’s about listening and getting to know how other people talk, so that when you are writing you feel like you can sort of channel attitudes and voices. These kids, obviously, felt crazy familiar to me, and so writing them was much easier than it otherwise might have been. But the hard part was just combining narrative element. I never wanted this movie to feel like Scooby-Doo, where the kids were suddenly investigating and having an impact on the story that wasn't commensurate with who they actually are in the world – meaning they couldn't stop this thing, this creature, from doing it wanted to do, nor could they help this thing to do what it wanted to do. I didn't think they were strong enough to get in the way of what the military or the local police or even local residents were doing. They were kids, and so they needed to, in a weird way, remain in the periphery for much of the second act of the movie. It meant a totally staggered narrative, which is what the character's father picks up and is shouldering for the second act of the movie, which is forty-some minutes. And so that character needed to be someone who you didn't mind being with, you kind of connected to, and at the same time identified as a broken guy who was not necessarily the most sweetheart to his son, particularly after the death of his wife, the kid’s mom. So that was a challenge, but luckily we had Kyle Chandler, who is so crazy watchable that I think he’d make even a serial killer someone that you wouldn't mind hanging out with. A lot of the narrative work was trying to balance the kids being the lead storyteller and force of the narrative, and handing it off in a way to the dad for a while, as the kids were kind of just kids, and then let the kids pick it up again towards the end of the second act, which becomes more of their story again. So it was really a weird experience, a very unlikely structure for me, but something that was a fun experiment. And again, having Steven Spielberg around to work on this was a priceless benefit.
(Caution: Minor spoilers ahead!)
On the design of the creature:
The creature, it was a tricky thing, from the story, to make it work. It had to be something that you’re afraid of, and yet, the reason it was in the movie is that it's serving as a kind of physical manifestation of the struggle going on inside this boy who has lost his mother, and the idea of confronting this thing, the inevitability of having to confront this thing, really marks the inevitability of having to deal with that loss and figure out a way to get past it. So by having to confront and see this thing that's the scariest thing in the world, by definition, means that this creature needs to be terrifying. Having said that, all of us find on some level that once you actually confront the thing that is the most scary to you, it's never exactly as you imagined, and it's often survivable … The cliché of what doesn't kill you makes you stronger is sort of the point, meaning that this creature needed to have nuance and be something that wasn’t just a chest-pumping beast. It needed to be scary, but at the same time it needed to get to a place where it was less scary. That's not to say it was ever going to be a 180 and suddenly become E.T. and adorable and loveable and cuddly. It was never designed as such.
On working with a cast of primarily younger actors:
As a father of three, the idea of wrangling these kids felt familiar to me. Steven gave me great advice, which was: you can give them line readings if you need to. You can actually tell them how you want the line read, which I would never normally think to do, but actually it was great advice. I used that a bit. Another great piece of advice I got actually was from Ron Howard, who I just asked, "You were a kid actor, what did you have or use or do or wish you had?" And he said that one of the great things he had on The Andy Griffith Show, and also had on American Graffiti. was there were people who would run lines with them, the young actors, and they would just continue to run lines so that when they got to the set so that they were completely prepared to jump in.
In terms of my style, I think you direct everyone differently. Every actor sort of requires a different rhythm and different amount of attention. These kids were so great that my big fear was getting in their way. I wanted to make sure I kind of let their dynamic live and breathe in the movie so that when I said “action” they didn’t suddenly shift into other people, that they were able to maintain significant elements of their own personalities and let that shine through. Otherwise I think it would feel disingenuous.
On Super 8’s film-within-a-film and the kids’ involvement in writing it:
I always knew that I wanted to have the movie that they were making shown during the credits of the movie. It was one of those things that, you go through the whole movie and not really think about it, and to be able to see what all that effort was about, I thought it was a fun idea. They didn’t write and direct it, but the wrote some of it, some of the scenes. For example, I would go to them and say, “Here’s this situation, go off and write the scene.” And they would go off and do a pass on the scene and come back. Part of it was trying to get them invested in the movie itself.
Super 8 opens everywhere this Friday, June 10, 2011.
Click here to watch our exclusive interviews with stars Kyle Chandler, Elle Fanning, and the rest of the Super 8 cast.

The former The Andy Griffith Show star appears in the new ad, insisting "good things are coming" for Medicare recipients, a social insurance programme administered by the American government to provide health insurance coverage for people over 65.
Griffith, 84, touts free preventive check-ups and lower-cost prescriptions for Medicare recipients as just some of the benefits of Obama's health care overhaul, which seeks to expand coverage for the uninsured.
The promo is part of a Medicare campaign to educate senior citizens about the new benefits which will be made available next year (11).

The 83-year-old actress decided to retire to Mount Airy, North Carolina - the template for the show's Mayberry, and the birthplace of Andy Griffith - after being burgled three times in Los Angeles.
But she was given a shock on Sunday (25Apr10) when she once again fell victim to crime - a man snatched her wallet as she was waiting for a taxi home from a grocery store.
Lynn quickly alerted a police officer, who caught the suspect and returned the wallet to the star - and she insists she still loves her adopted hometown despite the harrowing incident.
The actress tells the Boston Herald, "A squad car came and a policeman who knew who I was put his arm around me and handed me back my wallet. I never thought I'd see it again.
"I don't want to hurt Mount Airy's image. LAPD never caught any of those guys (robbers)."

Gottlieb will be presented with the Morgan Cox Award at an awards ceremony held by the Writers Guild of America, West (WGAW) in Los Angeles on 20 February (10).
The screenwriter served on the WGAW board of directors from 1983-1991 and 1996-2002, and as vice-president from 1991-1995 and 2004-2005. He also served as the chair of the International Affiliation of Writers Guilds (IAWG) from 2005 through 2009.
Gottlieb's other film and television credits include Which Way is Up?, The Jerk, Dr. Detroit, The Odd Couple and The Andy Griffith Show.

Ruben, who also produced TV hits Gomer Pyle U.S.M.C. and Sanford and Son, died on Saturday (30Jan10) at his Beverly Hills home.
He began his Hollywood career as a comedy writer for U.S. radio shows and began writing and directing TV comedies in the 1950s.
Ruben wrote and produced The Andy Griffith Show for five seasons in the 1960s and served as executive producer of the Gomer Pyle show before working as one of the original producers of Sanford and Son in the 1970s.
He is survived by his wife, actress Maureen Arthur.

For waitress Jenna (Keri Russell) life is pie—but that’s strictly in culinary terms not metaphorical. In fact life is anything but easy or exciting for her: She spends every day working for a boss (Lew Temple) she hates before going home to a husband Earl (Jeremy Sisto) she hates even more. The lone highlight of Jenna’s day—besides seeing her only two friends Becky (Cheryl Hines) and Dawn (Adrienne Shelly) at work—comes when assembling naming and baking her town-renowned daily pie; today it’s the self-explanatory “I Don’t Want Earl’s Baby” pie. To her having a baby would put on hold her dreams of winning an upcoming $25 000 pie contest which would enable her to leave Earl. Alas she finds out she is pregnant with Earl’s baby but something good comes out her trip to the OB/GYN—her new young doc from Connecticut Dr. Pomatter (Nathan Fillion). He’s different and his attitude is alien to this Southern town but he makes Jenna feel like she matters and it’s not long before she reciprocates. As her due date nears and their secretive affair progresses her confusion only grows but she finds clarity from the most unexpected source. Russell is a long way from Felicity the TV show that launched her career but sometimes escaping the pigeonhole of a character as popular as Felicity Porter takes more than mere time. It often takes a left-of-center role like this one and if Russell’s sole intention was to leave her past in the dust she succeeds—and then some. As Jenna she arouses everything from sadness to joy to tears of both leaving out the forced drama that made her a teen favorite years ago. And yet she maintains an undeniable air of well cuteness that enables her to play younger than she is in reality. Equally refreshing perpetual up-and-comer Fillion (Serenity) does a great job of making his relationship with Russell seem an unlikely one. He also displays great comedic skills which we last saw in ‘05’s Slither. Frankly there’s no good reason he’s not a leading man. Curb Your Enthusiasm’s Hines about the last actress you’d pick to play a Southern waitress gives her best movie performance to date even if only by proving doubters like myself wrong. Indie vets Shelly (Factotum) and Sisto (Six Feet Under) are also impressive in their comedic and somewhat villainous roles respectively. And Andy Griffith even stops by for some memorable lines! Beneath this syrupy sweet tale of pleasantness lies a pitch-black back story: Waitress writer/director/costar Adrienne Shelly was murdered in New York City towards the end of completing her movie. The shame of that in movie terms lies not only in the fact that she will obviously never see what is her best and most accessible directing effort but also that she clearly possessed massive talent and we’ll never know where she might’ve taken it. With Waitress Shelly created a warm fuzzy and vaguely nostalgic Southern dramedy with much less emphasis on the drama. And while her characters might not be completely honest representations of the South Shelly at least steers clear of offensive stereotypes that seem to saturate today’s movies opting to make Jenna’s plight the true conflict instead of choosing the proverbial “Southern climate.” Elsewhere Shelly does virtually no wrong. Waitress is exclusively about the female point of view which is quite refreshing. Shelly’s long takes of quirky dialogue between female characters—think G-rated Tarantino—are nothing short of hilarious and although the proceedings tend to take a conventional turn you’re always caught by surprise. As the tearjerker female-empowerment ending unfolds you can’t help but wipe the smile from your face and wish Shelly were still around; film could sure use a positive shot in the arm like her right about now.

Synopsis

Join Sheriff Andy, Deputy Fife, Opie and all the rest of the Mayberry gang for down home. There's not a whole lot of crime in town, so widowed Sheriff Andy Taylor is content to lead the quiet life with his good-natured son, his fussy housekeeper, and a deputy that's not allowed bullets for his gun.